The air was getting heavier, thick with tension that pressed against every chest in the arena. The audience was roaring, cheering with boundless energy, but even their voices seemed to tremble beneath the oppressive weight radiating from the battlefield.
Xiao Rui and Zheng Han’s eyes locked with one another—an unspoken war of will before their blades even moved.
Zheng Han unsheathed his sword in one smooth motion. Crimson patterns, like veins of blood and flame, glowed along the steel as if the weapon itself thirsted for carnage. He stretched his neck with a lazy crack, then slid his right leg forward, grounding himself in a predator’s stance.
Xiao Rui’s grip tightened on the hilt of his blade. Cold determination gleamed in his eyes as he slid his left leg into position, exhaling slowly.
Then—both of them moved.
They rushed toward one another at blinding speed, so fast that the ground beneath their feet cracked apart, exploding into spiderweb fissures. Dust and fragments of stone leapt into the air.
Zheng Han swung his sword downward in a brutal arc.
But in a blur of motion, Xiao Rui drew his sword and vanished.
The strike missed completely, the earth splitting where the blade landed. Zheng Han froze, his eyes widening in confusion—then pain flared as blood rippled through the air, a thin cut appearing on his arm.
He spun his head around. Xiao Rui stood behind him, his sword still glowing faintly from the draw.
"Too slow, trash," Xiao Rui said, his tone as cold as winter steel.
Zheng Han’s grin faltered, his teeth grinding audibly. Rage twisted across his face.
They both roared, surging forward. Sword met sword with a deafening clash, shockwaves erupting outward, rattling the protective barriers of the arena. The audience gasped as the raw force shook their seats.
Zheng Han’s brute strength pressed against Xiao Rui, shoving him backward. Dust sprayed up as Xiao Rui slid across the ground, his boots carving deep trenches.
But Zheng Han gave him no respite. In a flash, he appeared at Xiao Rui’s left side, swinging his sword in a vicious horizontal arc.
Xiao Rui bent his body mid-air, twisting as if his spine were made of water, and slid across the ground to evade the attack. The sword whistled past, barely missing him.
Zheng Han’s eyes widened again, caught off guard by the agility.
Xiao Rui regained his balance in a heartbeat, rising smoothly to his feet.
Both fighters rushed again, colliding head-on. Their swords slashed and clashed in rapid succession, each strike releasing sparks that lit the battlefield like falling stars. Shockwaves boomed outward with every impact, shaking dust and dirt into violent clouds.
The crowd watched in awe, many unable to even track their movements. To the eyes of ordinary spectators, it seemed like blue and green streaks of light colliding again and again.
Blue slashes versus green slashes.
Their auras—Xiao Rui’s azure glow and Zheng Han’s viridian storm—erupted, intertwining in violent chaos. Sword shadows filled the arena, overlapping into blinding arcs of destruction.
Both fighters roared, amplifying their strikes. The battlefield trembled violently, chunks of the stone floor lifting and shattering beneath the overwhelming force.
With a final, thunderous clash, the two were repelled backward. Dust exploded as their bodies skidded across the ground.
Both were drenched in sweat, blood dripping from shallow cuts across their arms and torsos. Their chests rose and fell with heavy breaths.
Zheng Han threw his head back and laughed, manic and cruel. Xiao Rui’s gaze, cold and unyielding, did not flicker.
Mockery returned to Zheng Han’s grin. "What happened? Don’t tell me this is your best."
With that, he leapt upward, his sword raised. Green aura condensed violently along its length before he slashed downward, releasing a massive Green Spiritual Slash that howled through the air.
Xiao Rui said nothing.
He vanished into the sky with aerial steps, appearing directly in front of Zheng Han mid-air. Their swords collided once more, sparks raining like meteors as they exchanged countless slashes above the ground.
Blood and sweat rippled through the air with each strike. Zheng Han twisted into a spin, his leg whipping out. The kick slammed into Xiao Rui’s forearm as he raised it to block, the impact forcing him backward.
Xiao Rui flipped mid-air, steadying himself, his body angled like a hawk ready to strike again.
Zheng Han laughed mockingly. "Xiao Rui, you will always be my slave. You want revenge? Then get it in your dreams!"
He swung his sword in a vicious arc, releasing a dozen green spiritual slashes that rained down like a storm.
Xiao Rui inhaled, calm amidst the chaos. He raised his left hand, summoning a glowing spiritual shield. One by one, the slashes collided and dissolved against it, leaving ripples of light in the air.
The audience erupted in awe, their cheers a storm.
Zheng Han descended with a thud onto the ground, landing in a crouch. Xiao Rui followed, descending gracefully, his blade gleaming.
The two began circling one another, steps measured, their auras pressing against each other like colliding storms.
"Do you still think you can win against me?" Zheng Han mocked, his grin widening.
"I don’t think," Xiao Rui replied in an icy tone. "I know I can."
In a blur, both vanished.
Explosions echoed across the battlefield as their swords clashed unseen, shockwaves blasting craters into the ground. To the crowd, it seemed like dozens of fighters were locked in battle, vanishing and reappearing in a frenzy of strikes.
The arena trembled with every collision.
At the center, both suddenly reappeared, screaming, their swords colliding in a deafening boom. Dust erupted in a storm, engulfing the battlefield.
Both fighters were thrown back, their bodies scarred with shallow but bloody cuts. The silence that followed was deafening—before the audience erupted in cheers once more.
Zheng Han steadied his breath, then laughed again, crimson energy wrapping around his blade.
His eyes gleamed with malice. With a roar, he swung downward, unleashing Jade Flaming Slash. Crimson flames erupted in an arc, tearing through the air.
Xiao Rui’s blade glowed with golden light. With a roar of his own, he countered—Ultimate Sword Strike! A golden spiritual slash surged forth, colliding with the crimson flames in a cataclysmic explosion.
The clash shattered the ground, dust and light bursting outward in waves.
Before the dust could settle, both were already upon each other, their swords clashing again and again in rapid succession. Their right hands trembled on their sword hilts, their left fists striking at each other between swings. Every clash shook the battlefield, and the crowd fell silent, holding their breath.
Xiao Rui roared, unleashing an upward slash that broke Zheng Han’s balance. He spun, kicking his enemy square in the abdomen. Blood sprayed from Zheng Han’s mouth as he stumbled back.
But Zheng Han retaliated with a horizontal slash. Xiao Rui blocked, but Zheng Han’s brute strength overwhelmed him, forcing him backward.
Zheng Han pressed forward, roaring, his attacks relentless. His blade slashed Xiao Rui’s chest, blood spraying in arcs.
Not deep—but enough to wound him.
Zheng Han laughed, his strikes turning savage. "How’s it? Does it hurt?" His sword tore shallow lines across Xiao Rui’s body, blood rippling through the air.
Xiao Rui gritted his teeth. He activated aerial steps, dodging a downward strike, and spun to slash at Zheng Han’s bicep. Blood spurted, the strike clean.
But Zheng Han countered instantly, releasing a vertical spiritual slash that collided with Xiao Rui and blasted him backward. A deep wound carved across his torso, blood dripping onto the ground.
Zheng Han’s laughter rang out. "How’s that? I hope it hurts you badly."
Xiao Rui spat blood, then hissed coldly, "You call these slashes? I thought some useless insect bit me."
Zheng Han’s face twisted with rage. "Fine! Then let’s see how you counter this!"
He rushed forward, sword glowing crimson. Xiao Rui met him head-on, slashing horizontally.
But Zheng Han smirked, ducking low. His sword plunged into the ground, crimson light erupting outward.
A formation appeared beneath their feet, glowing with sinister runes.
Chains burst forth—crimson skeleton chains—wrapping around Xiao Rui’s legs in an instant.
His eyes widened in shock as more chains erupted, binding his arms, torso, and neck, locking him completely in place.
Zheng Han stepped out of the formation with a devilish smirk. "Whoa... whoa... whoa... I admit, you’ve grown stronger than I thought. But you know what? You’re still an idiot."
He raised his hand. A crimson circle formed, pulsing with ominous light.
The chains tightened, bones creaking under the pressure. Xiao Rui’s teeth clenched as pain surged through him.
The dome formed—a crimson sphere of flames engulfing him completely. The fire roared, crimson tongues of soul-devouring flame.
Inside, Xiao Rui screamed, his cries echoing across the arena.
"These flames won’t kill you," Zheng Han sneered. "They won’t touch your body. They’ll burn your soul. They’ll tear at your mind. Let’s see how long before you break... before you lose everything."
Blood trickled from Xiao Rui’s eyes, ears, and nose. His screams twisted into raw agony.
The Sanatan Flame Sect disciples and the entire crowd stared in horror.
In the VIP room, Shaurya clenched his fists. Lin Shu covered her mouth, eyes wide with shock. Xiao Lian screamed, "Big brother!"
Shaurya slammed his fist against the railing.
A system window popped up before him.
Host, warning. If Xiao Rui doesn’t act quickly, he will suffer brain hemorrhage. His body will be crippled.
Shaurya’s eyes widened in fury. Eighty percent of his bones are already broken, the system whispered coldly.
Shaurya trembled as he looked down at his disciple, slowly losing consciousness.
"Xiao Rui!" he roared, his voice carrying across the arena.
Xiao Rui’s fading vision flickered. He turned his head weakly toward the sound. "...Mas...ter..."
Confusion clouded his thoughts. Where am I? What is happening? My brain feels like it’s going to explode. I can’t move... I lost.
His head lowered in despair.
Wang Tian stood beside Shaurya, his expression grim. "He’s losing his will."
Luo Chen’s face went pale. Xiao Lian wept uncontrollably.
"No!" Shaurya shook his head violently, shouting with all his might. "Xiao Rui, you idiot! How can you accept defeat?! Don’t you want revenge?! Don’t you want to grow strong?!"
His words thundered through the stadium, silencing the crowd.
"If you fall here, you’ll waste your parents’ sacrifice!"
Xiao Rui’s eyes widened. Tears spilled down his bloodied face.
Shaurya’s voice cracked like a whip. "Think about your parents! Think about everything you and your sister suffered because of that man standing before you! If you lose here, everything you endured, every ounce of pain, every drop of blood—it will all be wasted!"
Memories flooded Xiao Rui’s mind—his father, his mother, his entire family. His sister’s smile. His friends. His master.
Shaurya’s final words pierced his heart like a blade.
"Xiao Rui, as your master, I order you to stand! If you accept defeat, you’ll let me down, your sect down, your friends down, your sister down—and most of all, your parents down! I believe in you! Ignite your willpower! Set your heart ablaze!" The latest_epɪ_sodes are on_the NoveI[F]ire.net
Xiao Rui trembled, clenching his fists. Tears streamed freely.
Then, with a roar, he stood.
Zheng Han’s laughter faltered. "What a useless speech. But fine, struggle all you want. I’ll enjoy watching it."
But Xiao Rui closed his eyes, inhaling deeply.
Shaurya’s words echoed endlessly. For your family. For us. Ignite your willpower. Set your heart ablaze.
He exhaled. His aura erupted like a volcano.
"Zheng Han, you bastard!" Xiao Rui roared. "Today, either I will win—or I will die!"
His eyes snapped open, pupils glowing blue. His aura surged, a pillar of azure light erupting into the heavens. The crimson dome cracked violently under the pressure.
Zheng Han’s eyes widened in disbelief. "How is this possible?!"
Xiao Rui’s voice roared across the battlefield. "You will pay for everything you’ve done!"
With a deafening boom, the dome shattered, exploding into shards of crimson light. The ground quaked as Xiao Rui’s aura burst skyward like a divine beacon.
Even the stadium’s protective formations trembled beneath the surge.
Shaurya laughed, his eyes blazing. "I knew it! I knew you could do it! Now win—for us!"
In the battlefield, Xiao Rui stood drenched in blood, his aura burning blue like fire, his head bowed. Slowly, he raised it, eyes as cold as death.
Zheng Han staggered backward under the pressure.
Xiao Rui exhaled, his breath cutting like frost.
His words were simple, but they carried the weight of heaven and earth.
"Ready to pay. Bastard."